


Jump

by pjminyard



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, First Meetings, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, To Be Continued, references to past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 19:30:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17049233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pjminyard/pseuds/pjminyard
Summary: His vision settled on the source of the light—a glowing orange stone resting amongst a pile of rocks, looking like a molten chunk of lava despite the bitter cold of the water. Neil reached towards it and gently took it into his hand. It was warm, pulsing softly like a metronome…or perhaps the smallest of heartbeats.





	Jump

**Author's Note:**

> I initially wrote this short story for my Fictional Literature final, but I figured...why not just go ahead and post it, too?

As Neil stared off into the ocean, eyes focused on some far off point in the distance, he couldn’t help but feel the need for peace.  
  
As the waves slammed against the rocks below, the wind whipped through his hair and his clothes, ocean spray lifting so high up he could almost taste it. He wished he could taste it.  
  
His mind drifted, falling upon his teammates beside him. Their presence was steady yet oddly unnerving. Neil didn’t know why he felt the need to move, he just had to. Despite the roar of the wind and the waves and the steady breaths of his friends, their silence was deafening.  
  
And so he rose, breaking the silence with the shifting of gravel under his feet. Without thinking, he moved toward the large metal structure towering over them. Riko, observant as ever, spoke to him before he got too far.  
  
“Neil? What’s wrong?” A shadow of suspicion was etched across his face.  
  
“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”  
  
Riko pursed his lips at that. Neil had a tendency to downplay his problems—the result of too many years spent running—and “I’m fine” had become his go-to method of deflection. No one believed him anymore, but that didn’t mean they could argue either.  
  
“Don’t go too far.” The suspicion had seeped its way into Riko’s voice, and Neil had to fight down the guilt rising like bile in his throat.  
  
“Yeah, I know. I will.”  
  
And that was it. As the words left his mouth, he turned, staring up at the metal beams and the broken cords swaying above.

Grabbing on to the thin rungs on its side, Neil climbed. He climbed and climbed until he found himself pulling his body up onto the final platform, the ground far below and the ocean even farther. His teammates, small upon the rocks, were watching him.  
  
The sun had begun to set, far off on the horizon. Neil found his feet moving, stepping closer and closer to the beautiful orange sun so far away. It was stunning. Him and the sun and the ocean and the wind. He felt he could fly.  
  
Somewhere below, voices had begun to call out. Numbly, he reached his hand out toward the sun in the distance, his fingers grasping at its fleeting warmth. It was so far, yet he could feel its heat radiating off the water and into his body. It was disappearing into the sea, leaving the sky a mix of blues and yellows and purples and reds. Beautiful.  
  
As he stared off into the ocean, the sun setting and the wind rushing about and the waves crashing below, his friends’ shouts drowned out by his heart pounding and his blood rushing, he couldn’t help but finally feel at peace.  
  
And so he jumped.

 

  
A splash. The roaring rush of water overhead. Violent bubbles and a burst of white foam.  
  
Silence.  
  
In a matter of seconds, or perhaps an entire lifetime, the warmth of the sun disappeared as cold chills settled in.  
  
Neil’s body sank, plunged deep into the darkness of the abyss around him. He didn’t struggle, and he wasn’t scared. He simply existed. His eyes, heavy with salt, drifted shut as the distant ringing in his ears grew louder.  
  
Suddenly, the coolness seemed to seep away, an odd warmth blossoming out of a place where no warmth should ever exist. The dark of his eyelids turned red with light, and Neil’s eyes opened, shocked more by the heat than the cold that had previously invaded his body. His vision settled on the source of the light—a glowing orange stone resting amongst a pile of rocks, looking like a molten chunk of lava despite the bitter cold of the water. Neil reached towards it and gently took it into his hand. It was warm, pulsing softly like a metronome…or perhaps the smallest of heartbeats. As he turned it over in his palm, marveling at its appearance, a voice clear as day rung out through the still waters.  
  
“And what exactly do you think you’re doing?” the voice questioned, cold as the depths and darkness that shrouded it from sight. Neil flinched instinctively; those years of running had already ingrained the habit, but he never could forgive himself for being too complacent. Neil searched the darkness in front of him. The glowing stone cast plenty of light, and his eyes were slowly adjusting, but he couldn’t quite make out who—or what—had spoken.  
  
“I asked you a question. Are you gonna answer or just stand there gaping like a damn fish?” the voice drawled. Neil didn’t know how to respond. His eyes continued to search and fail to find the source. Was he hallucinating? Had he passed out, his ebbing mind conjuring up some convoluted story for him to die to?  
  
“Figures,” the voice scoffed, reading the confusion on Neil’s face, “our newest Finder is both mute _and_ a complete idiot.”  
  
“I’m not mute!” Neil shot back, “and I’m not an idiot either,” he mumbled, more to himself than anything else. Suddenly, Neil’s eyes grew wide, shock replacing his anger at the voice in the shadows. This wasn’t a hallucination. He was _underwater_ , but he had just spoken as clearly as if he were still on land. Now that he took a moment to think about it, he had been under for more than a few minutes now, much longer than any average human could manage to hold their breath for. Neil glanced once more at the glowing stone in his hand, eyebrows furrowed, the voice momentarily forgotten.  
  
An exaggerated sigh ripped his thoughts back, however, as the source of the voice came closer. Neil didn’t know what he was expecting, but a young man with curling blond hair and an expressionless face definitely wasn’t his first guess. He wasn’t very tall and didn’t look like much, but the weight of his eyes was heavy on Neil’s face.  
  
“You say you’re not stupid and yet I still don’t have an answer.”  
  
Neil racked his brain for the question he’d been asked. _What was he doing here? And what the hell was this crazy chunk of rock?_  
  
“This rock—” Neil started.  
  
“Stone,” the man cut in, “It’s a stone, not a rock, dumbass.”  
  
Neil swallowed the angry retort threatening to burst out— _what even was the difference?_ —and continued. “This _stone_ ,” he said, “what is it? I just…I could, I don’t know, feel it or something, like it was telling me to come closer. So I picked it up and it’s glowing and pulsing, and now I’m breathing underwater and talking to someone and—”  
  
“Jesus, I get it, you’re not mute,” the man interrupted, “that doesn’t mean you need to go rambling on for-fucking-ever, learn to breathe or something…” He quirked an eyebrow at Neil, watching him for a moment before continuing. “The stone is yours,” he said, like that explained everything.  
  
“What?” Neil asked, trying to wrap his mind around that answer. “What do you mean ‘it’s mine’? You say that like I can’t just toss it back,” he said, gesturing over to where he’d first picked it up.  
  
“You can’t. Like I said, it’s yours,” the man said, as if this were all just common knowledge and Neil was just oblivious. “The stone chose you; you accepted. Now it’s a part of you, and your place is here. Got it?”  
  
Neil most certainly hadn’t, and the stubborn part of his brain reared its head in defiance. “You’re telling me this stone ‘chose’ me. It’s a rock, it can’t ‘choose’ anything. And anyway, even if it could, why me? What makes me so special?”  
  
“‘Special’? Hmm…humble, aren’t we?” the man replied, derision coloring his voice. “Well, the stones only take form when a supposed ‘worthy individual’ comes along,” he said, putting up his hands in air quotes as if that were any replacement for his heavy sarcasm. “If you accept your stone, it changes you. So long as you have that stone, you can exist anywhere and everywhere—at this point, water is no different from air for you.”  
  
“So what, like, a mermaid?”  
  
The man fixed him with a blank stare. “Do I _look_ like a mermaid?” It wasn’t so much a question as a jab at Neil’s observation skills. “I’m a Finder, same as you.”  
  
_Same as you?_  
  
Neil was a moment away from questioning how the two of them were similar in any way when his eyes fell on a black stone hanging from the man’s neck, resting right in the middle of his chest. He hadn’t noticed it before, but Neil could just make out a faint glow from the other’s stone, despite its dark color. Now that he could see its gleam, Neil couldn’t take his eyes off of it.  
  
“Stop staring. You’ll catch on soon, c’mon.” The man turned and walked back toward the darkness, obviously expecting Neil to follow. When he didn’t, the man looked over his shoulder to glare at him. “Hurry up,” he said, “I need to get you to Kevin and David before one of them blows a fucking fuse at me for taking too long.” Neil had no idea who those people were, but the lack of respect in the man’s tone didn’t exactly instill much confidence in him.  
  
“Wait!” Neil yelled. The man gave no indication of stopping, so Neil barreled on. He meant to ask about the others, but what came out was, “What’s your name?”  
  
The man finally stopped and turned to fix Neil with a silent stare. His gaze was unnerving yet…oddly steady. Just as Neil figured he wouldn’t be getting any answers or explanations, the man opened his mouth.  
  
“Andrew.” Without another word, he turned back around just as quickly and resumed his pace.  
  
A moment passed before Neil, now hurrying to keep up, said, “I’m Neil, by the way.”  
  
“I don’t recall asking,” Andrew drawled. He certainly wasn’t one for conversation, but Neil wasn’t either, so he didn’t have any complaints. Instead, he took to looking around, toying with the warm orange stone between his fingers; the space around him should’ve been pitch black, but the stone’s glow seemed to seep further and further into the darkness the longer he held it. He could see the darting shapes of fish further off, their wavering forms somehow sharp despite the distance. Neil could feel the gentle rocking of sand beneath his feet, could sense the waving kelp and the watchful eyes of creatures hidden within. Neil's every sense was on high alert, a feeling he had grown all too accustomed to. It was overwhelming, and yet Neil felt more real in that moment than he ever had before.  
  
Neil barely noticed Andrew stop and almost walked right into him. He steadied himself and looked past Andrew at a towering structure of rock in front of them. It was pale green and glowing, not unlike the stones he and Andrew both carried. Neil turned to ask if it was the same material, but found Andrew  already looking right at him. For a moment, the look in his eyes seemed miles away even as he searched Neil's face. Suddenly, Andrew turned his gaze back to the space in front of him and spoke.  
  
“Welcome home.”

  
Andrew led Neil into the structure. On the inside, smaller structures of the same glowing material jutted out amongst paths that stretched in every direction. The place wasn’t exactly bustling, but there was a low hum that traveled through the water and into Neil’s ears, like the quiet presence of a trusted friend. Neil didn't know whether to feel comforted or even more on edge.  
  
The two followed the middle-most path to an open space surrounded by rows and rows of grey stone and orange coral. It seemed like some grand court to hold meetings, or perhaps to put on events. In the center were two men—Neil assumed they must’ve been the Kevin and David whom Andrew had mentioned earlier. As Neil and Andrew drew closer, the two men turned. Their reactions were interesting; the older-looking one looked relieved, and the younger seemed angry, storming over towards Andrew immediately.  
  
“What the fuck took you so long? You were supposed to be back ages ago, Andrew! You can’t just wander off every damn time you get mad and act like…” The man trailed off, noticing Neil behind Andrew. “Who the fuck is this? You never bring back new Finders.”  
  
Andrew’s expressionless face had morphed into a manic smirk at the other's tirade. “Sorry Kevin, but you of all people should know that I’m not very friendly when you make me mad,” he said, the supposed calm in his voice betrayed by the finger he sliced across his throat. “This is Neil, he’s new.”  
  
The man—Kevin—stared at Neil for a moment but didn’t say anything. His gaze flickered down to Neil’s fist, where his stone was grasped tightly against his palm. Finally, Neil let out the question he’d been holding on to.  
  
“Listen, this is...different and all, but I think you’ve got the wrong person,” Neil said. “I’ve got to get back to my friends, they’re probably losing their minds trying to find me, or think I’m dead or something. I really shouldn't be here, and it would be a lot better if I just go ahead and find _them_ before they find _me_. So if any of you could tell me a way to use this stone to, I don’t know, teleport back to the surface or something, that’d be great.”  
  
The men all stared at him, mixed expressions of pity and boredom on their faces. Kevin was the first to speak up. “You say ‘friends’ and yet here you are, holding a stone,” he said, like the two were related in any way.  
  
“Excuse me?” Neil said, “What does a stone have to do with—”  
  
“The stones,” Kevin interrupted, “are an escape, a physical manifestation born of one’s struggles: pain, fear, betrayal, abuse, guilt…”  
  
“Any of that sound familiar?” Andrew sneered. His voice was knowing, as if he could sense the way Neil had tensed at those words. Neil knew his past wasn’t pretty, knew all too well that his family had fucked his life beyond repair. But, his teammates...his _friends_ …didn’t they always say that they could make him better? That even if he was worthless, they could make him into something worthwhile? That if he just listened to them and did what they asked, that he would never have to run again? Didn’t they—  
  
“Hey,” a voice snapped, “not to interrupt what I’m sure is a great self-pity monologue, but whatever shit you went through, it’s done. None of that matters anymore.” Neil raised his head to see the older man—David—staring, like he could see right through Neil, into his mind where every thought was a mantra of _my friends, my friends, my friends._  
  
Neil turned from David to Andrew. He hadn’t exactly known the latter for very long, but something about his stoic presence was grounding. “Is that true?” he asked.  
  
Andrew looked at him, contemplating, like he couldn’t decide whether to tell Neil to fuck off or to give him the truth. Finally, he sighed and said, “Yeah. The stones are everyone’s ticket to something new. Whether or not you wanna actually give it a shot is up to you.”  
  
Neil looked down at the orange glow seeping through his fist. He opened his palm to study the stone for a moment. Its warmth was constant, and its gentle pulsing was now in perfect sync with the beating of his heart; its orange color was comforting, a reminder of a time long before he’d had to start running. Maybe Andrew had a point. Maybe it was a part of him.  
  
Neil looked back up at the men around him. He quickly realized that, on the outskirts of the court, more people had slowly started to trickle in, watching him. Their sudden appearance and presence was...different. Not uncomfortable, not unnerving, but definitely something different. It was exhilarating.  
  
Stone in hand, Neil let a gentle smile form. It had been a long time since he had genuinely smiled.  
  
Glancing back at Andrew, Neil pondered his words from earlier. _Something new. Worthy. Home._ It sounded nice. Maybe Andrew was right. Maybe his place was here.

**Author's Note:**

> Admittedly, with this piece being written specifically as a short story, there may be some elements that aren't as thoroughly explained here. I don't really have any thoughts for this to be a longer chaptered series, but maybe one day I'll come back to it. :)
> 
> Feel free to come cry over Andreil with me @pjminyard_ on twitter!


End file.
